


The memories that never fade

by Samurai_snakez



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, Shinguji Korekiyo's Sister Being an Asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26429851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samurai_snakez/pseuds/Samurai_snakez
Summary: Korekiyo goes through his normal evening routine, just like every other day. But certain memories coming back quickly results in his evening taking a dark turn..
Relationships: Shinguji Korekiyo/Shinguji Korekiyo's Sister
Kudos: 33





	1. Memoriae

**Author's Note:**

> TW's (just in case)  
> -(sexual) abuse  
> -suicide  
> -selfharm
> 
> I honestly don't know at what point or time this story is set, I just really wanted to do something with Kiyo's backstory because everyone seems to forget about it so I didn't really think that through-. But uh anyways ennjoy this for what it is ig

Korekiyo enjoyed spending time in his study. Even though he lived in quite a cramped apartment, he managed to turn the biggest bedroom into his study. In it, he kept countless artifacts, little souvenirs of his travels, books, diaries and most importantly; pages and pages of notes, neatly stacked and bound together with long ribbons. 

Korekiyo walked over to the large open cabinet, which was made of hard oak wood. It was here, he kept his most precious possessions. 

He grabbed a mask off one of the lower shelves. He let his fingers run among the contours. A wide, grinning, toothless mouth, hollow black eyes, stubby nose, bulging red cheeks, a dirty smudge on the forehead... The faded white paint had already started peeling off. But the dried up splatters of blood hadn't. His own blood.

It was maybe 2 years ago since he visited the village. It was an intriguing experience, to say the least. If he went there now, he would've stayed much longer. But at that time, he just couldn't understand the raw beauty that came with their rituals yet. Every day he can still see the men staring at him from afar. Their faces covered with a mask, each one with twisted, over exaggerated features. In their hands a leather whip and a candle. Every day when he wakes up and looks in the mirror, he can still see the scars on his back, the ropeburns on his stomach, arms and legs. And every night, in his dreams, he can hear his own cries, moans and screams of pure pain echo through the walls of his bedroom. After all those years, it didn't bother him anymore. It wasn't that he forgot what happened, no. He still thought about it daily. But you can get used to even the most cruel things, perhaps even starting to admire them. 

He carefully put the mask back in it's former place and moved his hands to a higher shelf. On it laid his collection of ropes. Thick, thin, rough, smooth, in every colour of the rainbow. His favorite one was a thin, red rope. 7 feet long with rough ends. He got it as a gift from the women in a remote village once. All those foolish women fell for him as soon as he walked in there. And they fell even deeper into their madness when he slipped off his clothes. Every night they came to him, all desperate for the unholy pleasures of the night, like sheep coming to the slaughter.  
He had butchered each and every single one of them, well, almost. Stabbed, hanged, beaten, impaled, kicked, bitten, punched… how beautiful it was seeing the bloody corpses of his mistresses pile up around him. He left only one. Only one to flee his killing spree and spread the tale of the trail of bloody footsteps he left behind walking out the gates. She was a kind one. Gentle. Very beautiful. Intelligent as well. Somewhere deep in his heart, he hoped she's still alive. Or maybe not. But did it matter at this point? No. There was no room in his heart for another sweetheart. Sister wouldn't allow that. Sister was the person his whole life revolved around. She's the only person who mattered.


	2. Balneum

He stroked the rope one last time before gently laying it back on the shelf. Playtime in his study was over. He felt gross. Even though he loved the uniform Sister tailored for him, he couldn't help but sweat horribly in it. All those layers of thick cloth made it hard for his skin to breathe. He'd take a bath every morning at 6, every night at 12, it didn't matter how late he had to go to bed or how early he had to wake up. He just couldn't allow himself to look or smell filthy. 

He walked out of his study to the bathroom, unbuttoning his jacket on the way. He closed the bathroom door behind him and turned on the lights. There was a single lamp hanging from the ceiling. It flickered now and then, but since he had no idea how to replace the bulb, he just had to live with it. But that wasn't the only source of light. Tons of scented candles stood on the sink, the side of the bathtub , on top of the cabinets. His favorite one was a tall lavender candle. It had a strong, but very pleasant smell that would last for hours. The scent of lavender was very calming to him. So calming in fact, he once fell asleep on the bathroom floor. 

He carefully hung his jacket over a wooden chair standing in the bathroom. The chair had stood there for years now. Kiyo had tried to take his life many times, for he didn't feel like his life had any purpose after she died. He just wanted to go back to Sister. To feel her warm, loving embrace again. 

Or did he?

He honestly didn't know. He just craved attention. He was touch-starved, and this tingling, neverending itch of needing human skin pressed against his got worse every day. 

He unbuttoned his undercoat and blouse, pulled down his pants, slid off his underwear and took off his mask. He neatly folded his dirty clothes and laid them on the chair. He was going to take a bath, and since he didn't have a washing machine, he always washed his clothes in the bathtub. His uniform would have to wait for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if these chapters seem so short. I first wrote this as just one long story, but I preferred the whole chapter idea.


	3. Memento mori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG TW'S FOR BLOOD, GORE AND SELFHARM  
> \+ a minor tw for implied sexual content
> 
> ok shit really starts to go down in this chapter as you can see
> 
> Also idk if I should mention this but the F slur in this chapter. For the sake of everyone I censored it in case anyone gets triggered by it.

He turned on the sink and let the bath run. In the meantime, he carefully unwound the bandages that covered his arms and hands. The more of the bandages slipped off, the more cuts began to show.

He put them there himself. All 95 of them. Small incisions, precisely organized in rows of five. Everytime Sister got a new friend, he would cut a new one. It was a very simple way to keep track of his victims. And not only that. He would get immense pleasure out. Slowly tracing the blade among his skin, and pressing it deeper into his flesh, with drops of blood beginning to poor out of the wound and run down his arm... The way the rusty metal would sting and tickle a little.. Somehow it was just so arousing to him. He has lots of minor cuts on his inner thighs and lower stomach, solely from pleasuring himself. If only he would've been just a little less sane, if only he would've had a little less control over his thoughts, he would've sliced himself open completely, from head to toe. He could only imagine the gorefest of him bathing in his own blood, his porcelain skin dyed red, even his teeth and nails, all red and sticky. What a scene that would be. 

Korekiyo carefully put his finger in the water, which was followed by a loud hissing sound. Perfect. He turned off the faucet and carefully climbed into the tub. The water was hot, very hot. Thick clouds of steam emerged from the surface of the water, covering the bathroom in a dense curtain of fog. He liked that.

Kiyo looked at his reflection in the water. It stared right back at him. He hated how he looked. He wanted to be beautiful like Sister. Luscious red lips, bright white teeth that sparkled whenever light fell on them, perfectly symmetrical eyes with long curled lashes, hair soft like silk, reddish cheeks with a small beauty mark under her eye… A perfect body with a small waist, plump behind and a large bosom…

But he was nothing like her. Bags under his tired eyes from his many restless nights. His cheeks were hollow. Tangled hair. His body filled with scars. Chapped lips. 

He wasn't perfect. He wasn't like Sister. 

But she made him like this.

He remembered her words so vividly.

"You're pathetic, ugly. Without me you're nothing. Nobody cares about you. Everyone hates you and they will always hate you. Everyone thinks you're a disgusting little f*ggot. 

But I don't. I love you. You know that. I can make you beautiful. I can make you feel loved. Don't worry Korekiyo.

I will never let you go. Ever.

He felt his eyeliner starting to leak. His eyes began itching and swelling up with tears. But he smiled. He smiled back at that pathetic, disgusting boy in the water.

"Yes Sister. Tell me how to be beautiful. Make me feel loved…"

Nothing. No reply. Sister was nowhere to be heard or seen. Only Korekiyo silently crying in his dirty bath, alone. 

"Please… I don't want to be like this..."

He buried his face in his hands, his lipstick and eyeliner leaking through the gaps between his bony fingers. He sobbed.

"MAKE ME FEEL LOVED! MAKE ME BEAUTIFUL.. 

I BEG OF YOU!"

Still no reply. 

"ANSWER ME YOU… YOU..

WHORE!"

Suddenly, an invisible force slammed his head into the wall. Again. 

And again

And again.

The lights began flickering and an ear-piercing scream echoed through the bathroom. From the corner of his eye, Korekiyo saw a female figure standing in the corner, mouthing the same phrase over

And over

And over

"Apologize apologize apologize apologize Apologize apologize apologize apologize  
Apologize apologize apologize apologize  
Apologize apologize apologize apologize  
Apologize apologize apologize apologize".....

Korekiyo realized what he had done. He wanted to apologize, he wanted it to stop, but his mouth was filled to the brim with his blood, pouring through the gaps between his teeth, and the only thing that came out of his mouth were incomprehensible gagging noises and loud coughing. Sister knew very well what game she was playing. He did something that She didn't like, so he had to be punished. Korekiyo violently shook and screamed out his lungs, as his vision was dyed completely red by his own blood dripping from his forehead. His eyes began itching and thick tears streamed down his cheeks. Blood red. He wanted to scratch, might even poke out his eyes, but he was completely immobilized. There was nothing he could do about it. And the slamming was still going. His vision faded from the red of is own blood to complete darkness, and the last thing he heard before he passed out was a soft giggle. She had her way with him.


	4. Memoria damnum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ay there will be some minor??? gore in this chapter and mention of teeth so if you're sensitive to that just skip this chapter.

Korekiyo slowly opened his eyes. He looked around, confused. He had no idea what happened. He only knew that he decided to take a bath and that he had an awful headache. Sister must've gotten mad at him again. He blinked a few times, and noticed something off. The water was drained from the bath, only leaving a small puddle at his feet. He didn't drain the bath himself? 

Did he?...

And there was something else. 

Korekiyo felt this hard, small "thing" hanging out of his mouth by a thin thread of some sort which brushed against his chin when he moved his head. He carefully grabbed the "something" with his pointer finger and thumb and gave it a firm tug. A sharp pain went through his gums as soon as he pulled it out. He slowly raised his two fingers to eye-level, and even though his vision was still hazy, he knew exactly what this "thing" was.

He had pulled out one of his teeth, with the root still attached. 

His eyes widened. He couldn't stop staring at it.

Sister must've gotten very mad at him.

As fast as he could, he climbed out of the bath, trying not to slip on the wet bathroom floor, and rushed towards the mirror above his sink.

And there he saw what had become of him. His wet hair was stuck to his forehead, which was entirely covered in blood with a big bruise in the middle. His eyes were surrounded by leaky black circles of smudged out eyeliner, mascara and eyeshadow. There was a tooth through his lip, his nose looked crooked like it had been broken, and his jaw was dislocated, hanging to the left. He was a complete mess. He quietly smiled at himself in the mirror, with one tooth missing from his set of lower teeth. 

"I apologize Sister.. I don't know what I did to make you this furious, but I promise..

I won't happen again.."

He quickly cleansed his mouth by gargling some water. His throat still hurt, so he spat it out into the sink again. Even though he got rid of most of the blood, he still had that weird irony taste stuck in his mouth. He sighed, grabbed a towel and started drying his hair and face with it. This was maybe the third time something like this happened. In a single week. He felt like Sister had been away from him for such a long time, that their bond had started to weaken. Of course, he still did what She wanted, he still did what she told him to do, but somehow.. He began doubting some of her doings and demands… 

Maybe it was because he was older now, and began making his own decisions. Maybe it was his libido that made him feel things for other girls, even other guys, time and time again. Maybe it was the fact he lived alone now, and could do basically whatever he wanted to. Maybe it was the fact that Sister had been visiting less frequently over the past few months, and that she hadn't talked to him for a while. So many questions but not a single answer. The only thing he knew was that it was probably his fault. Because Sister never does anything wrong. 

Or does she?

He never really took that question into consideration. He had always blindly obeyed Sister, doing whatever she asked of him. But he had a feeling that maybe, maybe he should start standing up for himself, and for his own goals a little more. 

But that would be ridiculous, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna pretend my last update wasn't like, 2 months ago-


	5. Dormio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Sister bitch is here this chapter I want to punch her :)

Korekiyo threw the towel onto the floor, not bothering to put it into his laundry basket, and walked into his bedroom. He was very tired. Tired from this exhausting way of existing. But he knew he had a job assigned, and sometimes, you have to put other's demands in front of your own. 

Even if they're dead. 

He closed his curtains and climbed into his bed. He didn't want to sleep, for he didn't finish his usual routine, but he didn't care. He just wanted this awful day to be over. He rolled around in his sheets, staring at the wall, the ceiling, his wall, and then the ceiling again… He just couldn't fall asleep. There was only one thing he could think about;

What if Sister is still mad at me? What if she hates me? What did I do wrong? 

He rolled to his stomach and buried his face into his pillow, wanting to get rid of these awful thoughts. 

But then, he felt a hand stroking his naked back. He knew exactly who it belonged to. It was slender, soft, but cold as ice. The air escaped his lungs and he loudly gasped at this sudden contact. 

"Stop worrying, brother. I know you feel guilt. I will let it pass. For once. Next time, you will know the consequences that will follow if you make such a foolish mistake again."

"Yes.. I…. Apologize.."

He heard her giggle. Her laugh was hoarse. He had never really liked the sound of it

"Good. Now, hush.. Go to sleep, my brother dearest. Or we could spend some more time together, of course… I miss toying with you.."

He felt a pair of ice-cold lips passionately trailing kisses down his neck and back. Her sharp fingernails dug into his thighs. It was painful, and it already caused him to softly grunt and dig himself deeper into his pillow. He didn't dare to look. He knew that she liked to hurt him a little. That was a twisted trait she passed onto him; pain is arousing. He knew what she was trying to do, and it wasn't going to happen tonight. 

"Sister.. Please.. Not now.. I am exhausted… I don't have any stamina for this"

He heard a disappointed sigh. Thank god. Her hands slipped off his legs.

"Fine. If you don't wish to see me, fine…. Just promise your Sister you'll have a good night rest, my dear. Turn around"

He rolled to his back and then he saw her. A strangely gentle expression, her luscious lips curled into a smile, her empty, white eyes staring right into his soul. Her perfectly symmetrical face framed by her long, soft hair. Completely exposed breasts, thick thighs, and a small waist.

She wrapped her hands around his cheeks and kissed him on the forehead. 

"Goodnight love"

He closed his eyes. The strange cold air escaped the room as fast as it entered, thereby releasing him from the heavy feeling in his chest and the goosebumps on his neck and arms. He quickly fell into a deep slumber.

"Goodnight.."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear god I finally finished this. Phew.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah this is my first story on ao3 haha? I have worked on this for quite a long time and I think I will post the rest of the chapters over the span of a week or so. Also expect me to change the description a little because it's very cheesy but I couldn't think of something better-


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